


The twenty-ninth shot - It's a date

by randomnickname



Series: "The twenty-ninth shot" verse [2]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 20:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16166660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomnickname/pseuds/randomnickname
Summary: "Hewantedthat blond bastard, dammit, and he wanted himnow."The long-awaited reunion smut.Companion fic to The Twenty-Ninth Shot, but can be read as a standalone (TL;DR: after various and painful struggles, Giriko starts a new life as a lumberjack in Poland - Justin finds him).  I put this here in order not to disturb the flow of the main story.





	The twenty-ninth shot - It's a date

It took approximately twelve hours for the peace within Giriko to wash off, chased away by burning, _scathing_ impatience.

' _See you next week_ '? What the hell! What the _fuck_ had he been thinking?! He had had Justin under his hands and he ... let him go? Walked away? Set up a _date_ in an entire _week_ like some absolute _moron_?!

A week. Seven days. _Seven days_ , for fuck's sake! How was he supposed to wait for seven days with the taste of Justin's lips still on his tongue, the sound of his moan still ringing in his ears? If the want had been strong like a tidal wave before, now it was a tsunami, howling in Giriko's mind and tingeing his vision blood-red. His libido, almost dormant in the past few months, had resurrected with a mighty bang, and he had to excuse himself for breaks at work, angrily jacking himself off behind a tree while muffled curses tumbled from his lips. He _wanted_ that blond bastard, dammit, and he wanted him _now_. The fact that he only had himself to blame for the absence of Justin in his arms was what really brought his blood to a boil. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ , he thought over and over as the minutes trickled by with agonizing slowness.

He had never felt like this. Never felt this electrified, as if devoured from within by a raging fire. Colleagues and passer-by made a wide berth around him and the aggressive, manic energy he oozed, but he still managed to pick a fight, the first in a while, with some idiot who hadn't backed off quickly enough. The impact of flesh on flesh felt good, but it was the wrong flesh, the wrong hurt, and Giriko retreated from the bloodied man with a disgruntled growl when it became clear this would offer no relief.

He could barely eat, barely sleep, and began to doubt his own sanity all over again. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why did a skinny blond with an infuriating grin leave him completely ravaged by blazing need? It felt too much to be contained within, and Giriko took some of it out on trees, doing more work in a week than his entire crew in a month. It was careless, really, his cover would probably get blown - but he didn't give a fuck. When would Thursday arrive?!

He had gotten a text two days prior, bearing the curt message: "Thursday, 8pm, your place. JL." How Justin had found his number, how he had found _Giriko_ in the first place, Giriko had no idea, but frankly he couldn't care less. It had brought Justin to him, so whatever the means, the end was appreciated. He had not answered the text, couldn't even look at his phone if he was honest, the reminder that Justin was out there, somewhere, but not _here_ , pulling his stomach into tight knots.

It was infuriating. Giriko wanted to tear his own hair out. But at the same time, he couldn't get himself to call Justin to tell him to meet him earlier. Pride stood in his way like a granite wall, and then he was the one who had suggested it in the first place, wasn't he? He had brought this upon himself.

After the longest week of his life, Thursday was finally there, and as the day trickled by Giriko's mood began to change. The angry restlessness gave room to corrosive anxiety. What if Justin didn't come? What if Giriko had misunderstood something? What if, what if?!

He had taken the day off, knowing he'd be unable to focus at work, and paced back and forth in his dingy living room like a caged tiger.

At 1pm, he started cleaning the house, doggedly scrubbing at enamel stains as if they were mortal enemies.

At 4pm, he took a trip to the grocery store, absent-mindedly buying things he might or might not need later, the chit-chat of the cashier like white noise in his ears. Condoms, wine... or how about fireworks, to replicate the ones going off non-stop in his belly?

At 6pm, he started cooking dinner, moving on autopilot, the stray tomcat running around his legs and meowing until Giriko tossed him out by the scruff of his neck.

At 7pm, he showered, stared at the dark circles under his eyes and at his wild, haunted look, and punched the mirror. Five minutes were spent bandaging his bloody knuckles, then he resumed pacing the living-room, flexing his fingers and fighting the sourness in his stomach, forcing sips of liquid courage down his constricted throat.

At 8pm, he heard the roar of a big truck down his street, and thought he might throw up. Two minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

He opened, his heart punching in his chest like a war drum.

Justin stood there, unsmiling, breathless, gaze intense. Wearing a sort of silky grey shirt that flattered his new tan. Exuding warmth and smelling nice. Was that a hint of cologne?

They stared at each other, waiting for the other to move, to say something. But they didn't, and all of a sudden Giriko felt extremely awkward.

He took a few steps back, manoeuvring himself out of reach, out of temptation to reach out himself. "Uh," he said. "You hungry? I, uh, there's food."

Justin's eyebrows shot up in a silent ' _Seriously?_ ', but then he nodded. He slowly trailed after Giriko towards the kitchen, reviewing the shabby, water-stained house while his hand drummed a nervous beat on his thigh.

Giriko served both of them a big portion of goulash, placed a plate in front of Justin and they both sat down, Justin's expression so serious he might as well be entering a round of poker with the Mafia.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the sound of cutlery too loud in the quiet. At least, Justin ate, and Giriko put food in his mouth and went through the ordinary motions, chewing, swallowing and all that jazz, but he didn't taste anything, might as well have been munching on Styrofoam for all he knew.

Justin eventually cleared his throat. "It's good," he said, voice carefully neutral. "Didn't know you cooked."

"Yeah," Giriko said, which wasn't really a response at all. He cringed and almost choked on a sip of water.

"I like your house," Justin added. His knee was bumping up and down in a speedy pattern. "Fits you."

Giriko raised an eyebrow. "What, cause it's ugly and patched up?"

Justin snorted. "Not like that. I mean, it has an history, but it's still ... charming."

"Charming," Giriko grumbled, incredulous, and shoved a spoonful of goulash in his mouth, shaking his head.

"What happened to your hand?"

Giriko looked at the bloodied bandage. "Nuffin'."

Justin smiled to himself. Then he shoved aside his plate, wiped his mouth on a stray paper towel.

"So," he said calmly. There was the challenging glint in his eyes again as he gave Giriko an assessing side glance. "Are we just going to pretend we don't want to go at each other like rabid dogs?"

Giriko froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth. He slowly lowered his arm, and the spoon fell on his plate with a clank, splattering sauce on the table. "Well," he said, and in his chest his heart started speeding up again, a dark fire spreading through his guts. "If you phrase it like that."

He gingerly stood up, and Justin emulated him.

"Well," Justin said in turn. Took a careful step forward.

Then everything was a rush of motion as they crashed against each other so hard it knocked the air out of Giriko's lungs. But he didn't care about breathing any more since his mouth was on Justin's, his hands in his hair, and they were kissing, _kissing_ -

If their last kiss had been sweet, this was nothing but. Giriko yelped when Justin fiercely bit on his lower lip, the teeth blunt but the pain sharp, and _this_ was the right hurt, the good hurt only Justin could bring. Justin's hand were yanking hard at his hair, his chest pressed flush against Giriko's, showing no sign of restraint, and Giriko pushed back, head swimming with lust, intent to plunder Justin's mouth. Their tongues sloppily tangled with each other, their breaths loud and ragged as their lips furiously crashed together, over and over again.

Within Giriko the dark fire was roaring, roaring for _more_ , and he grunted in acquiescence when a cold hand wormed its way underneath his tank top. He let go of Justin's neck in order to quickly discard his own shirt, and was rewarded with a long scratch down his back that had him hiss at the red-hot pain.

"Grown claws while I was away?" Giriko grunted, and Justin laughed, short and hard, and viciously bit his neck. Giriko moaned in satisfaction, his eyes drifting shut for a second as he savoured the throbbing pain and the warm lips on his throat. There was still too much fabric in the way, though, and he started undoing the buttons of Justin's fancy shirt while the blond sucked on his neck. But the buttons were too delicate for the jittery adrenaline in Giriko's veins, and after a few seconds of fumbling he growled, and _pulled_. Thin silvery buttons popped around the kitchen as the shirt tore open, and Justin made a small sound of outrage.

"Sorry," Giriko said, not feeling apologetic at all, and let his hands roam around the strong muscles of Justin's back. Their chests bare against each other's, he thought he could feel Justin's heart and its wild beat, and groped his ass to draw him higher and closer still. Justin sneaked one thigh between Giriko's legs, pressed upwards, and Giriko groaned, his cock achingly hard, started grinding down against Justin's thigh. He resumed the kiss, needy for more, more _Justin_ , and Justin provided, forcing his tongue into Giriko's mouth while his hands clawed at his shoulders.

Giriko let go of Justin's firm ass, fumbling for his fly instead, but Justin caught his wrist and stared him straight in the eye, expression almost manic.

"Bedroom," he croaked.

They didn't make it to the bedroom.

Stopping for a kiss every few steps, they managed to reach the top of the stairs before landing in a messy heap on the floor. It was a short affair to push both their jeans down to give way to their respective erections, and then a bit of spit, an embarrassing little amount of friction and they were both coming and groaning into each other's mouth. Giriko rested his head on Justin's shoulder afterwards, panting, feeling shaky as if with high fever. One of Justin's hand stroked the small of his back, the touch slack and drained of strength, and Giriko inhaled deeply, the scent of Justin's sweat, Justin's cologne, of bliss.

After a minute a draft chilled his sweaty back, and he scrambled to his knees, picking Justin up in the process, and freeing them both of remaining clothing. Justin was pliant in his arms and let himself be dragged to the chainsaw's bed, his mouth pecking sloppy kisses on Giriko's neck. Giriko plopped backwards onto the mattress with a sigh of relief, and tossed the covers over the both of them in one sweeping gesture. Justin got buried in the process.

"Hm. Nice. Smells of you," he mumbled from beneath the sheets.

This ignited something soft and vulnerable inside Giriko's chest he didn't knew what to do with. He carefully shoved it back, to be examined never. "Shuddup," he grunted.

After an hesitation, he pulled back the covers to allow Justin fresh air access, and unveiled the blond's cheeky smile.

" _Soooo_ ," Justin said, a shit-eating grin spreading on his face.

"What," Giriko grumped, not liking where this was headed. But one of Justin's leg was creeping up around his, one of his hands fiddling with a nipple piercing, and well, that was ... yeah, that was nice to say the least.

"Glad I didn't ' _leave you the fuck alone_ '?"

"Hm. Don't look so pleased with yourself, asshole," Giriko warned. But at the same time he tugged Justin up until the young man was sprawled over him - his weight not negligible, but Giriko could manage - and burrowed his nose in his hair. They were still for a moment, and, to lay in his own bed like this, a naked lover in his arms - Giriko felt something in him thaw, an ice clump he hadn't even known was there. A god damned miracle, that's what it was.

"How d'ya find me, anyway?" he eventually asked.

"If you really wanted to be discreet you shouldn't have sold some of your new Golems, idiot," Justin chastised without heat. "Your style is pretty recognizable."

"Aha."

Justin toyed with Giriko's right earring. "Still took me long enough to find you, though. Next time I'll think to ask you for a number."

"Good idea." The chainsaw brought a hand up to Justin's nape, and rested it there, heavy and possessive. "But, seriously..." he purred in Justin's ear. " _Next time?_ D'you think I'll let you go now that you've showed up again?"

There was a sharp tug on the earring. "Don't I get a say in the matter?" the blond asked lightly.

Giriko scowled, and shoved him up at arm's length. "Why, you wanna leave?" He hadn't intended for it to sound that testy, and bit his tongue when Justin's eyes narrowed.

"Remind me who got through the trouble of seeking you out?" The blond sat back, one hand on Giriko's chest. "If you wanted to see me so bad it would have been easy to reach me. I'm rather high profile."

Giriko glanced away. "Wasn't sure you'd wanna," he muttered.

Justin frowned. "Was there anything ambiguous about my actions?" he said. "I kissed you, I helped you escape, I told you I liked you. What's there not to be sure about?"

Giriko shrugged, embarrassed.

"What, did you just think I did all of that because I was _horny_ or something?" Justin's gaze was reaching polar temperatures.

"No! I mean. Maybe."

" _Bullshit_ ," Justin sneered, eyes ablaze. He leant forward, so threatening the chainsaw half-expected a silver blade to appear against his throat. His fingernails dug painful grooves in Giriko's chest. "I was _abundantly_ clear. I want _you_ , _all_ of you. Got it?"

"You're hot when you're angry," Giriko stupidly blurted out.

" _Got it?_ "

"Yeah, yeah."

Justin considered him askance, then his expression softened fractionally. "Alright, then," he said, mollified, and lowered himself until his mouth hovered an inch above Giriko's. "Kiss me."

"Bit bossy today, are we," Giriko commented, and took the offered lips.

They kissed languidly, the chainsaw's hands wandering down to Justin's ass of their own volition, and Justin nibbled on his lips just hard enough Giriko was sure they'd be chapped tomorrow.

"Your fault," the blond muttered between two kisses. "T's you who made me wait that long."

"Hm." It really was, but it didn't matter any more, did it? Giriko felt a little smile spread on his face, the kind that radiated from within, a faint echo of what he truly felt, deep down.

"Missed you," he whispered into the kiss, low enough for denial to be possible, but Justin didn't call him out on it, choosing to start licking into his mouth instead. The kiss heated up, the blond's cool fingers raking through Giriko's hair, and with Justin sitting on top of him it soon became obvious that he was growing hard again, his cock swollen and heavy on Giriko's stomach.

"What was that 'bout not being horny?"

"Shut the hell up," Justin growled. Giriko chuckled at the mild profanity and obliged, taking to teasing Justin's tongue instead.

He gently rocked up, interest rekindling in his own member too - Justin being this demanding was quite the turn-on. The blond's breath hitched, and when Giriko started kneading his ass he ground down, their hardening cocks sliding together and making him hiss.

Justin broke the kiss to stare down at Giriko, and with his swollen lips and shiny eyes he looked like sex incarnate. Fuck, but he was gorgeous. The chainsaw could barely comprehend this was really happening.

Then Justin asked, "Where's the lube?", and Giriko felt the world rocking off its hinges again.

He blinked. "You ... you want to...?" He squeezed Justin's ass to clarify the obvious.

Justin raised an eyebrow. " _Duh_."

"Have you..."

"Done this before? Yes." Justin's tone grew slightly exasperated. "So no tutorial needed, thank you. And I want it with you. _Now_ ," he punctuated with a push of his hips.

"What if I say no?" Giriko teased, and barked a laugh when Justin's expression fell. "Fuck but you're one thirsty, thirsty bastard. First drawer."

Justin poked his tongue out at him and leapt down from the bed in a flurry of covers, treating Giriko to a nice view of his rear as he bent down to rummage through the contents of the drawer.

"... Why is there a drill in your night table?"

"You really wanna know?" Giriko drawled. He lazily stretched, waiting for an opening. Then Justin was in reach again, lube in hand, and the chainsaw tackled him in one swift movement, rolling them on the mattress until he had Justin pinned by the wrists underneath him. The blond struggled a bit for show, biceps bulging in effort, but Giriko didn't budge an inch. Needed to show who was boss a bit.

He licked up a wet trail along Justin's throat, and smiled to himself when the blond's eyes glazed over.

"So how'd you wanna have it?" he said, voice husky. "You want me to go slow?" He let his lower lip catch on Justin's jaw, his breath ghosting over his cheek. And savagely bit down on Justin's earlobe. "You want me to be _fierce_?"

Justin swallowed hard, then an impish grin spread on his face. He angled his head in order to bring his mouth up to the chainsaw's ear, as if to tell him a secret. "Show me your worst," he breathed.

Giriko closed his eyes for a moment, a tendril of fire unfurling in his stomach. He muttered a curse under his breath. Then hastily let go of Justin's wrists and pilfered the lube, spreading a generous coating on his right hand. He slid down to Justin's side and shoved him in place until he was spooning the blond, left arm wrapped around his torso.

"You're such a kinky little fuck," he whispered into Justin's ear, and smirked as his breathing sped up. He nudged the blond's thighs open, then slotted a hand between his butt cheeks, slick fingers stroking at his entrance. "Gonna give it to you so fuckin' good."

"Bit cocky today, are we," Justin noted, his voice surprisingly steady considering the beet-red tint of his ears.

"Tsh. You like it," Giriko said, and pressed his index upwards. Justin hissed, and grabbed the chainsaw's left hand, almost crushing it with the strength of his grip.

Giriko huffed in laughter. "Oi, we're only getting started!"

"Less talking, more fucking, Giriko."

Giriko worked in another finger. "On it."

His erection was throbbing urgently, still sensitive from his previous orgasm, and he tried his best to ignore it. Cocky or not, he was keen on doing a good job here - he carefully scissored Justin open, hyper-focused on the stutters in his breathing and the clenches around his fingers. When he experimentally curled them, searching and finding the tiny knot of nerves, Justin did a little "Oh!" sound - it was surprised and sweet, and Giriko felt a sudden burst of warmth in his chest. Fuck, that sound he wanted to replay in his head until he died.

He nuzzled the blond's neck as he fingered him, short hair tickling his lips, basking in the sensations. He could have this. He could have it all, and no one was going to take it away from him. And anyone willing to try was in for a world of hurt, because _this?_ Justin's hitching breath, Justin's heady scent, the glide of skin on skin? He'd never let it go again.

He found a nipple with his left, pinched. Justin groaned, and brought a hand up, tangling it in Giriko's sweaty hair.

"C'mon," Justin gasped when Giriko stroked his prostate again. "C'mon, want you..."

With Justin twitching in his arms it was getting _really_ hard to deny himself what was so readily offered. "Pass me a condom," Giriko bit out, and with some difficulty inserted a third finger in Justin's ass.

"Teeth," Justin said a few seconds later, prodding at the chainsaw's mouth with plastic packaging. Giriko obligingly tore it open with sharp teeth, then freed his hand with a wet squelch, quickly working the condom over his strained cock.

"More lube," he asked, holding out his hand, and Justin squelched a huge glob on his fingers without further prompting. He was shivering a bit against Giriko, breathing hard, his fingers clenched painfully in the chainsaw's hair, and Giriko felt it too, the anticipation so strong he felt light-headed.

He gave his cock a few strokes, then pressed the head of it against Justin's hole, pulling the blond tight against his chest. His heartbeat rushed in his ears.

"Alright, here goes," he breathed, and slowly pushed in.

Justin was tighter than the tightest glove around him, if that glove was also _warm_ and _slick_ and _perfect_ \- Giriko was only halfway in and he already felt like bursting. Sweat beads gathered on his brow. He very slowly exhaled, trying with all might to repress the urge to blindly thrust forward, his grip on Justin's hip slippery and white-knuckled.

There was a quiet whining sound.

Giriko blinked himself back into focus. "Justin? You OK?"

The blond swallowed. "Yeah," he gulped. "You're just ... Shit, you're big."

"Eh. Sorry?"

Justin weakly chuckled. "It's good, just .. a lot. Give me a second."

With such a delightful pressure all around Giriko's cock, that second of immobility was fucking excruciating, but Giriko pressed his forehead against Justin's shoulder, willed himself to wait.

"Sure you don't want that tutorial now?" he choked out, and Justin wheezed in a semblance of laughter.

There was a bit of give, so Giriko pushed further with torturous slowness, until he was buried in Justin to the balls. He moaned, and so did Justin, and then the blond arched his back just a tiny bit and the angle was _amazing_ , even without moving. And then he started moving, tentative, shallow thrusts, and it was just _spectacular_ , and he sank his teeth in the meat of Justin's freckled shoulder to stifle a whine.

" _Ouch_ ," Justin complained, but there was so much heat in his voice it could have melted steel. He started fucking back against Giriko, slow but steady, and _damn_ , Giriko felt like he was overheating, prone to combustion, his entire universe reduced to that fiery line of contact where he and Justin blurred to one.

They found a rhythm, Giriko still mindful not to go all-in, thighs quivering with tension. Against him Justin was gasping quietly, not a very noisy lay, it seemed. His fingers were dancing across the surface of his lean cock, not yet taking himself in hand properly.

"Fuck," Giriko coughed against his shoulder blade, the familiar curse all he could muster. " _Fuck_."

That got Justin to glance at him over his shoulder, and the usual sky-blue of his eyes was tinged dark.

"Giriko..." he said, smooth voice a mere rasp. "Harder."

" _Fuck_ ," Giriko repeated, and let loose.

His hips thrust forwards full force, and when Justin rolled on his belly for better access he could slam him back on his cock, thoroughly fucking him into the mattress. There was a strange noise from Justin, like the start of a delighted laughter, then just sob-like sounds as Giriko angled sharper. Hottest sound Giriko ever heard. He was panting, sweat dropping from his face to mingle with the salty rivulets on Justin's back, and if that wasn't a sight to die for then nothing in this wretched world was.

Justin was still so fucking tight around him, and Giriko wouldn't be able to keep this up long, was feeling the pressure build up from low in his spine like a slow-motion lightning bolt. He let go off Justin's hip, leaving a white imprint of his palm on flushed flesh, and reached around to gather a warm handful of cock. Still that perfect girth and size to snuggle comfy into his palm, and he had knew it from the first time, that that dick was made for him. Justin didn't seem he'd contradict, from the way he shivered all over when Giriko started stroking, the thick vein at the base pulsing in immediate response. Around Giriko's cock there was a sudden clench, and Giriko almost spilled it right there and then, but by some miracle he could stave off his own climax long enough to help Justin's through his, keeping up a steady pumping until the spurts of warm liquid over his fingers ceased.

He didn't lose a further second, slamming into Justin's tight ass over and over as orgasm shook him like an electric tempest. Vision ceased for a moment, the world stopped turning for a moment as all his nerve endings crackled in agonizing pleasure. Then his brain recovered enough to make sense of the jumbled fragments of images, organizing the mess of freckles and wet blond strands and expanses of smooth back into Justin's gorgeous shape.

His pleasure-shaky limbs didn't seem to want to support his weight any more, so Giriko slumped sideways with an 'oof', his bones like warm jelly. His chest heaved as he stared at his ceiling in dim wonder. Next to his ear Justin was recovering his breath too, puffing hot, short gushes of air that stirred up Giriko's hair.

It took an impressive amount of effort to turn his head to face him, and then they could only exchange an equally dazed look.

Giriko managed to form a few words with the soft play dough that his tongue had become. "Dude... That was..."

Justin's hand flopped somewhat painfully on his face, an index outstretched. "Don't say anything," Justin said sluggishly. "You'll only ruin it with that filthy mouth of yours."

Giriko felt a rush of fond annoyance. "Git."

Justin's hand remained on his cheek, index tracing Giriko's lower lip. He felt his eyes drift shut of their own accord, a light smile tugging the corners of his mouth upwards. He brought a hand up, wriggled it under Justin's neck so that he could cup his neck. Perfect.

"Never want to move, ever again," he whispered, a bit ashamed when the words left his mouth overtly gentle.

Justin softly tugged at Giriko's lower lip. "Don't see any reason why we should."

Giriko cracked an eye open. "Means you're stayin' tonight?" he said, trying with all might not too let the hope seep in his voice.

But Justin's knowing, affectionate smile showed he heard it still. He merely nodded, his eyes doing the crinkling thing at the corner that Giriko liked so much.

The feeling in Giriko's chest was too vast for things as trivial as words. Words didn't mean shit. Justin's smile, the warmth in his gaze, him being here - now that, that meant a lot. The flutter in his stomachs could be later blamed on the awesome sex, Giriko decided, and therefore enjoyed fully.

He still had to hide his face in Justin's damp hair after he pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, because the moisture in his eyes was hella less easy to dismiss as a post-coital inconvenience.

"Good," he muttered gruffly.

And that was all there was to say, really.


End file.
